


Zero

by gingerfic



Series: An Alphabet of Samcedes Stories [26]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awkwardness, Cold, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Storm - Freeform, blizzard, samcedes - Freeform, winter weather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 12:05:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5126939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingerfic/pseuds/gingerfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winter temperatures in the midwest are nothing to to sneeze at, especially if the power goes out. It’s a good thing Sam’s neighbor has a wood stove...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zero

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely inspired by the [prompt](http://onetruepairingideas.tumblr.com/post/130916303740/shittyaus-random-aus-to-consider-my-heater): my heater broke and it’s the coldest month of the year can I stay over and hog all your blankets au
> 
> beta by hkvoyage

The snowstorm last night had taken out the power, and then as the skies cleared today the temperature had dipped below zero and it was probably still going down. Sam’s cell phone battery was dead so he couldn’t check anymore, and he wasn’t about to go outside to try to guess. It was too cold.

Modern houses are insulated to maintain heat, but Sam’s tiny bachelor pad was not very modern, and it was getting cold. He was wearing three layers of clothing and two pairs of socks, but it had been 19 hours now since the power had gone out, and he was getting cold. He crawled into his bed and wrapped his comforter around himself, but as he watched his breath make tiny clouds in front of his face he knew that this wasn’t going to be enough. 

He got up and felt his way along the wall to the front door so that he could put on his coat and a stocking cap. As he was adjusting the soft fabric around his face he glanced out the window in his front door and saw the house across the street, with a pleasant glow coming from the edges of the windows, and a thin tendril of smoke rising from the chimney.

The chimney!

They had a fire!

Without even thinking about it, Sam pulled on his boots, zipped up his coat, and opened the front door.

\-----

Mercedes had just finished making herself a bed on the couch when she heard knocking on the front door. She hurried to answer it, and grabbed the person there and pulled him inside without question. It was too cold to leave anyone outside, even a stranger. 

“What are you doing out in this weather?” she blurted. “It’s too cold for words.”

“I live across the street,” the tall man stammered, rubbing his mittened hands up and down his arms. “I’m sorry I’ve never come and introduced myself before. I’m Sam, sorry…” he held out a hand awkwardly.

“I’m Mercedes, and do you always visit new neighbors at 9:30 at night in sub-zero temperatures?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said again. “I don’t have a gas heater or a wood stove, my house was getting so cold, and then I saw that you--” he gestured to the merrily crackling fire.

“Oh!” She smiled. “Of course.” 

Sam unzipped his coat and removed his hat, letting soft-looking hair fall free. Mercedes bit her lip to keep from gasping. “I was just going to tuck myself in on the couch, but I have another blanket, we can both fit.”

“Thanks.”

\-----

An hour later they were chatting and giggling like old friends, and while there were separate blankets for each of them, they had moved much nearer each other than where they had started. 

“It’s actually getting really warm in here,” Sam commented, reaching for the hem of his sweater and pulling it off over his head. 

“Well, fire is--” Mercedes caught a flash of skin at his hip as he raised his arms, and completely lost track of her train of thought.

“Fire is what?” Sam asked. “The sweater was over my ears, I didn’t hear…”

“Hot,” Mercedes whispered. “So hot.”

“Fire is hot? Uh, yeah, that’s kind of--”

“You’re so hot,” Mercedes blurted before she could stop herself, and then buried her face in her hands in embarrassment, peeking out between her fingers.

Sam just stared at her, a tiny smile creeping across his face. “Oh yeah?”

“Um…”

Sam scooted a little closer, the smile growing to a grin as he did so. The firelight flickered on his face and his eyes twinkled. 

“Mercedes?” he asked softly.

“Uh-uh!” she shook her head, still hiding her face.

“Ok,” he shrugged, shifting back and adjusting the blanket around himself. “It’s late and I’m tired anyway. Thanks for letting me stay over though.”

\-----

They may have fallen asleep on opposite sides of the couch, but when morning came they were heaped together. The fire had burned down to just embers, as fires are wont to do, and the room was not cold but it had definitely cooled off.

“Uh, good morning,” Mercedes mumbled as she pulled her hair back from her face and sat up. 

“Five more minutes, Mom,” Sam moaned as he rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand.

“Hey, Sam.” She shook his shoulder, trying to get him to wake up and realize where he was.

He opened his eyes, looked at her, and smiled.

“Oh, hey.”

They awkwardly disentangled themselves from one another.

Sam cleared his throat. “So, um, thank you for letting me stay. Again.”

“For letting you stay again?” She couldn’t help smirking. “Were you planning on staying tonight as well?”

“No, that’s not what-- I mean, thank you  _ again  _ for letting me--”

“I knew what you meant,” Mercedes giggled, and went to start stoking the embers of the fire to get it built up again. “And you’re welcome. Really. Spending time with you was a lot more interesting than being by myself.” She threw him a quick grin as she put some new wood on the fire and closed the stove door.

“Can I, uh--” Sam had folded up the blanket, and was looking around the room as though he expected to find something, but after a minute he turned back to his hostess. “Is there anything I can do to help you? To repay you for letting me stay? I can chop more wood or something…”

Mercedes chuckled. “I have a log-splitter to do that for me, and my woodshed is plenty full anyway. But maybe you could bring in some wood?” She gestured to the rack beside the wood stove, which was nearly empty.

“Absolutely,” Sam was on his feet so fast that he nearly lost his balance. “Yes, I can do that. Thank you, I can--” he turned around rapidly to locate his boots and outdoor gear, and crashed full-force into the end table. He dropped to the floor, clutching his knee and grimacing. “I can in just a minute,” he said through gritted teeth.

Mercedes bit her lip and turned toward the kitchen so he wouldn’t see the smile she couldn’t keep in. “How about I put on some coffee? The coffee maker won’t work of course, but I have some of the instant stuff,” she gestured vaguely. “And I can heat water on the stove.”

\-----

Twenty minutes later the fire was crackling, the water was hot and Mercedes was carefully stirring the coffee into each mug. Sam had completely refilled the wood rack and had shoveled a nice broad path to the woodshed as well. They settled down side by side on the couch, each with their hands wrapped around a steaming mug, and watched the flickering tongues of flame.

“I wonder how long it will be until they get the power up again,” Sam mused. “The storm is over now so hopefully--”

“You can stay here again,” Mercedes blurted. “If they don’t have it on yet. I mean, I don’t mind.” She stared hard at the fire, carefully avoiding looking at Sam for fear that she might blush if she did.

“I appreciate it,” Sam said quietly, and Mercedes couldn’t help it: she looked at him. Sam was watching her intently, his wide eyes soft and darker than she had remembered. 

Her mouth moved without waiting for her brain to give it directions. “You can stay here again even if the power is on,” she murmured.

“Yeah?” one of his hands reached back and set his coffee mug on the end table without even looking, and for the first time Mercedes realized that his other arm was resting along the back of the couch next to her.

Mercedes carefully set her mug on the floor, squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to focus instead of being so distracted.

“Yeah.” It came out in a whisper as she lifted her chin and found his face mere inches from her own.

“Yeah?” he asked again, his breath warm on her face and leaning minutely closer as he spoke.

She didn’t dally with words this time, she just tipped into him. Her mouth pushed into his and he fell backward onto the couch, his arms dropping around her body as she fell on top of him.

And that was that.

\-----

“Mom?” The girl speaking was a precocious thirteen.

“What?” Mercedes asked absentmindedly as she poured pancake batter onto the griddle.

“Did you really kiss dad on the first date?”

“Duh, you idiot,” the girl’s older brother chimed in. “She also slept with him on the first date.”

Mercedes blushed like she always did when the kids construed the story this way. “It wasn’t that kind of sleeping with--”

“Your mother was just taking in a poor, needy neighbor,” Sam declared, slipping up behind his wife, sliding his hands around her waist, and kissing her on the ear. “And don’t call your sister names,” he added over his shoulder to the boy.

“It was a very unusual situation,” Mercedes tried, flipping the pancakes over. “I don’t really advise following in my footsteps.”

“Awww, but it worked out so nicely!” Sam rested his chin on her shoulder with his lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout. Then he made little sad noises until she finally turned her face so he could kiss her.

“Yeah, it did,” she agreed, kissing him again. 

She flipped the pancakes onto the plate and carried them to the table. She glanced outside at the snow-covered trees, and then back across the room at the cackling fireplace. This was her favorite time of year, and when people asked why she always said something vague about holidays and family time and feeling cozy. But the truth was that she loved winter--and especially snow storms--for exactly one reason: they had brought her him.


End file.
